Big ASS Dose of Act-Right

R.I.P. Johnnie Cochran

Don't call me Miss Cleo but, I spoke of this...

All joking aside, now that Blogger has decided to let me do a real post, this is a sad day. Cochran broke down so many doors for black folks in the law world and he's done work in the community that you would never know about unless you researched his endeavors. My prayers go out to his family.

Now Starring....

As I sit in my desk chair, freshly peeled out of some Rocawear jeans, a grey hoodie and matching grey New Balances, eating a strawberry Edy's fruit bar (which ain't shit but a grown-up popsicle and listening to Teedra Moss, I start to wonder...

(yeah I just realized that intro doesn't have a damn thing to do with anything but so the fukk what?)

So, I may have bitten off more than I can chew. In a recent comment section, Star implied that I may be able to give up some P.I.M.P. tips since it appears that I have a stable of men. My friends who know details about my "love life" (if I can call it that), jokingly say that I have more men in my life than a little bit. When Luda's "Pimpin All Over the World" comes on, I usually proclaim to anyone that will listen that it's my theme song of the moment. However, I'm not made out for pimpin, I'm not even made out for "dating around". I'm a one man type of woman and while some view the guys in my life as actual companions, I view them more as options.

The truth of the matter is, what I have now is a few guys who like the possibility of having me in their life romantically. That's not to say that anything will happen or that I feel the same way. Shit, I guess the easiest way to discuss this would be to break down the major players in the game. So here goes.

The Cast:
(please know that this list is in no specific order...so dun trip if you're first or last.)

Mr. Young
Background Information: Warm As the Sun Dipped in Black, Number 6 of My Confessions, A Letter to My Beautiful Surprises

We met last semester, wow...that seems so crazy to think that I've only known him for less than a year. Anyways, we became really close and as time went on, he became my shoulder to lean on. He's just so easy to talk to and he's one of those people who never makes you feel as if you're being judged when you talk to them. After a few months of being "strictly friends", we grew a lot more close and our relationship developed into something that is not easily defined. However, when I stop and think about where we are going now, it seems that we have fulfilled our obligation to each other.

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about people's purpose in other's lives and how someone may come into your life for a short amount of time, fulfill their purpose and then leave. Not necessarily on bad terms or because of certain circumstances but just because there is nothing else you can do for each other. I feel that way when I think about Young. It just feels like he was placed in my life to help me through a time when I really needed someone and now that I'm passed that, I'm not sure if our relationship can sustain. I don't want this to sound as if I used him, because I didn't. He is a special person in my life, I'm just not sure if he's that "special person", even if he assures me that he can be.

Slim
Background Information: Slim: Parts I & II, certain sections of Closed: Will Reopen Once Healed,and Aries:Unplugged
Most of you know the deal with Slim, so we can skip straight to the point here. And what is that exactly?

*DRUMROLL*

*pulls you closer and whispers, "I think I'm catching feelings for him...."*

Even more proof that I cannot be a pimp. Pimps don't have feelings. Say it with me now..."We don't lub dem hoes!!" *hangs my pink fedora, complete with white feather on the coat rack*

He makes me laugh. When I'm not around him, I find myself thinking about the next time I will see him. I noticed when we didn't talk for a whole day. I miss his touch. He aggravates me (which is a sign that I care, however odd that may be...if I didn't care, I'd be nonchalant and nothing about him would bother me). He says the things I wanna hear, but not in a "this negro is running game" way.

It's not infatuation because I've been there and this doesn't feel like that.

When it all comes down to it, I can see myself setting everyone else aside to be with him. And that's real.

So why don't I just do that? The whole "all the eggs in one basket" theory. I just don't know if I'm ready to place all my trust, hopes and relationship fears on one person.

E Bentley
Background Information: Number 12 and I'm Rich, Biaaaatch!
Met him last summer. We've stayed in touch, which is extremely rare for me. In the beginning, we had some GREAT conversations. It was like we could talk about anything. Maybe that was part of the problem. While we both acknowledged that if we were closer in proximity (he lives in Florida) something more than long-distance friendship may occur, the reality is that we don't. So we engaged in excellent conversation, talking about almost any and everything in our lives, including this girl he was involved with. So while I found myself growing closer and closer to him and actually entertaining the thought of a long-distance relationship, it took me a while to realize that he was stuck in this other situation that occupied not only his time but a portion of his feelings. So I pulled away, fearing that I would become emotionally attached to a guy who, at any given moment, may have dropped me for a girl he had a history with and obvious feelings for. Now ask him, and he may tell a different story, but this is my blog, my side.


Mr. 100%
Background Information: Lovers and Friends and If I Woulda Knew
Dude intrigues me....I didn't even realize I had blogged about him in December until I scoured the archives trying to find back files and that entry popped up.

I guess this is a good a time as any to give you all the update to what happened when I went over there to watch Belly.

I get over there and he pops the movie in. So we're sitting there on the couch, enjoying the movie, munching on pretzels and sippin Smirnoffs. About 20 minutes into the movie, he pulls me close to him and situates me under his arm. We chill like that for a moment and then I feel him pull away. I look up and he's leaning in, trying to kiss me. I looked at him, with his fresh braids and beautiful lips, and turned my head so that all he got was a taste of my cheekbone. With the lame ass explanation that I was "kinda in a relationship" and a gentle kiss on his cheek to soothe his bruised ego, we watched the rest of the movie with his arm around my waist. When it came time for me to go home, he walked me to my car, gave me a tight hug goodbye and promised that he would call me on his off day (Wednesday). As promised, my phone rang at around 2:00 on Wednesday. It was him, calling to give me his new cell number and seeing if we could hook up for a late lunch. I quickly rushed him off the phone with the promise that I would call him right back. I never did. He called me 4 more times that day. I never returned the calls. Today he called me. On Highway 70 and safely out of his reach, I answered the phone. He let me know that it was messed up how I played him to the left but that he wasn't mad. He said that he respected whatever I was ready to let him be in my life and that he only wanted to catch up over lunch. I actually felt kinda bad and found myself promising that I would call him this week and make sure to see him the next time I came in town.

Mr. Big
Background Information: N/A (Actually, after some further investigation, we found this: Number 4. Did you just ask yourself who the "we" was that found this information? Dun worry 'bout it...ya'll know the people that always do the background checks, the CIA, FBI, BBD, TLC, SWV and dem'...yeah, Big Brutha)

One of my best guy friends in the world. If I were to rank the men I know (excluding my family, and therefore my favorite guy in the world - my daddy) based on personality alone, he would probably top the list easily. I cannot think of a single thing that we can't talk about. All that shit that we ladies hide from guys, trying to be cute, we've discussed. He's seen me at my worst and yet he still wants to try a relationship with me. I didn't even realize that he thought about me that way until I got a little too much liquor in the system one night, dared him to show me how a certain piece of apparatus (that he wasn't born with...think about it...) enhanced a much-talked about act and he actually gave me a *cough*live demonstration*ahem*. Since that night, I've tried to play like Israel on College Hill and claim a temporary "blackout" due to alcohol consumption, but that shit didn't work.

So we exist on. Me, speaking to him on a strict friendship level, and him taking what he can get, but not so secretly wishing that we can replay that night with a few script revisions.

Oh, I guess I should explain why it will never ever ever ever ever (say it like Chris Tucker would) happen again. If you read the background, you know. But for the folks who don't utilize the secret files I've provided, here is the main point: I'm not sexually attracted to him at all. There is no "za-za-zuh" as my homegirl Carrie Bradshaw (and NO, she is not just a character played by Sarah Jessica Parker, she lives on inside of me...) would say. It's not that he's an unattractive guy, it's....damn this sounds shallow....well, look at his alias and figure it out for yourself. And for the really slow ones...(*sidelong glance at Bruhfree*), let's just say he's a LOOoOoOOoOOng way from being able to bounce quarters off his stomach...Oh, I'm so ashamed, call me shallow, go ahead..I deserve it.


So there they are, the (main) men in my life. As you can see, I have a unique relationship with each and every one of them. And while this may be a case of me trying to "have my cake and eat it too" (a STOOPID ass saying if you ask me....), I feel like Jay-Z said it best: "Love havin my cake plus eatin' it too. Shit, I got cake, what the fuck I'm 'posed to do??

Let's just hope it doesn't bite my ass back......

Betta Not Fukk It Up!!

Regina King just said on 106 & Park that the Boondocks (my FAVORITE comic strip in the WORLD) is soon going to be a cartoon showing on the Cartoon Network during the "Adult Swim" block. I cannot wait!! They had betta not mess my shit up because I might riot up in this biotch!! In case you were wondering what voices she will be doing, Regina will be doing the voices of Huey Freeman and Riley Freeman....HmMMmm.....this shit betta be good!

I need a vacation home!

It's my Spring Break...which means I won't be doing too much of anything, but that I won't be posted up by my comp like I usually am. I'll still be around, trying to keep up with the crew's blogs....but don't be expecting me to update anytime soon! I'll give ya'll the scoop on Mr. 100% when I get back!

P.S. - If I'm EXTRA moved by Tweet's album, which I will be picking up tomorrow, the day it drops, I may post somethin on that. Otherwise, Imma be a lazy bitch.

If I woulda knew....

"On the flip side, I find this boy occupying SO much of my thoughts. He's such an old soul, so wise beyond his years and so deep. When I look into his eyes, I see truth. Pure and plain. Every word he speaks, he believes so deeply in, and that's so sexy and appealing to me. We have the best conversations and it's crazy how attracted I am to him, yet I can leave him never having sexually touched each other and feel so FULFILLED. He makes me hot with a glance and I think he knows it..." - Feb 2004

I was 15. He was 17. The boy next door. The one my mother didn't want me talking to too long because he wore his hair in braids. Because on his side tooth there was a shiny gold. Something I normally hated but on him it worked. I had watched him play ball around the way. He was quicker than all the other dudes and yet he seemed to never break a sweat. He was fuckin' fly. If this was The Coldest Winter Ever, he would be Midnight.

Somehow, we became close. He would come over my house after school let out and we would stand on my porch for HOURS. He would wrap his arms around me, and run his hand up and down my stomach while we talked about any and everything. He was so intelligent. Talk to anyone else and they would say he was a "thug". No doubt about it, he was a city kid, but he was so far from a thug. He was that street smart guy that could hold his own. That handsome guy who seemed to be good at everything without really trying to do anything. He was that guy who didn't talk to many people, but everyone claimed to know him.

I felt privileged. On the few days when he would ride the bus, he would always sit in my seat and lay his head in my lap. I would stroke his braids or mess with his ears while casually talking to one of my girlfriends. Dudes who tried to talk to him while he was relaxing with me got hit with the grill face. That, "leave us alone" face.

With one hand on the porch railing and the other one on my stomach, he rested his chin on my shoulder and lightly gave me a kiss on the jawbone. It was the first time his lips had ever touched me. I still remember it to this day. I felt it was the right time. I gently placed my hand over his on the railing and ran my index finger over the skin between his thumb and index finger. "100%" it said. A delicate tattoo, not fancy at all. I took a deep breath and asked him what it meant. He stood quietly for a minute and finally said "You're not ready to know." Say what, say huh? Don't tell me I'm not ready to know anything! From that day on, I asked him almost every other day to tell me the meaning behind it. I figured since it was permanently etched in his skin and in such a prominent place, it had to have some significant meaning. He always dodged the question and eventually I thought back to his answer the first time I posed the question and dropped it.

___________________

I've seen him around now and then when I come home.

Tonight, I pulled in the garage and heard someone softly call my name. Knowing it couldn't be him because he doesn't live there anymore, I quickly threw up my hand in greeting and continued on into the house. I heard the person call my name again, a little louder this time. I glanced back into the darkness and heard him say "it's me..." I slowly zipped up my coat and walked down my driveway. He stood at the bottom, a cute smile on his face and a black hoodie over his Atlanta hat-capped head. We embraced, then went and sat on his car and talked about what's going on in our lives now. Lots of smiles, and a sense of familiarity you can only get with people you once shared a special bond with. He said we should go somewhere tonight and I agreed. He's not into clubs and for some reason, tonight, I didn't feel like going out anyway. He said we should just drive around and be "free spirits". Coming from anyone else, it woulda sounded corny as all hell. Someone else may have come off like a John Legend/Neo-Soul/Buppie wanna-be trying out his first attempt at spontaneity. But falling out of his lips, it sounded beautiful. I bit my lip, looked at him and told him as good as that sounded, gas is too high ($2.00 a gallon) for me to be letting him drive around being "free-spirited". He laughed, told me I was right and that he would try to find something for us to do. After a couple calls and still no luck, he said he would run to the gas station, fill up on gas, put a little air in his tire and call me on my cell. I told him that was cool, gave him a hug and walked into the house.

He called 1/2 an hour later. I had just gotten off the phone with Slim. "You in those pajamas yet?" he asked. I let him know he called just in time. Then, out of the blue:

Hey, how come you used to like me and tried to act like you didn't?
Say what? What are you talking about?...
Come on now, it's just me and you on the phone....
And I'm for real...are you serious? aww fukk it... Key words being: "I liked you..."
I see what you're saying.... but I liked you. We liked each other.
I was 15.
And I was 17. Yeah...I see what you're saying...you were the girl next door. Remember that song?
By Musiq?
Yeah...*starts singing* "If I woulda knew the girl next door woulda been you..." Man, I used to love that song.
You could relate huh? You shoulda been a little more nice to me...
I'm trying now...We still got time. And I see you're not afraid of me anymore.

He's right. Like I said, I felt privileged. He was my little prize. The older guy that everybody wanted, but nobody but me got to get close to. So...I'm going over his house. Just to watch a movie. And reminisce....

Hey, ain't nothin' wrong with that....

Fuck Bacardi

Ain't it fucked up how...
alcohol will let you have all the fun you want until you get home and then that shit says "A HA! Nigga...here I come!" **SMACK** "BITCH!!!"?

Ain't it fucked up how....
When Negros go and grab white girls, them bitches are usually OOGLY?

Ain't it fucked up how.....
when you find something good there's always a catch?

Ain't it fucked up how....
sometimes there just doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day?

Ain't it fucked up how....
Bush got re-elected? (thought I would throw that one in there....)

Ain't it fucked up how....
something you thought was yours can really belong to someone else?

Ain't it fucked up how....
I'm drunk and this is the best post I can come up with?


Ow....delor mi estomago...(or something like that). Shit, my stomach is killing and I didn't even have that much to drink...Fuck is da deal? ***Stumbles off singing "there's a meeting in my bathroom"...to the tune of Silkk's "Meeting in my Bedroom"....

My poor, poor stomach and head....OW.....

I've caught the bug

Is this shit contagious? It seems Spring Fever has hit the bloggin' world. I cannot think of one single topic to blog on...isn't that sad as hell? I didn't even mean to be all MIA for almost a week but damn, I've been running around and still haven't done anything blog-worthy.
*in my best Martin voice* DaYUM GINA!! Lemme sit here for a moment....

hmMmM...maybe....


nahhh......


Or there was that one time.....no that won't work either.....


men?....nope......friends?....nope.......catty bitches?.....nope....

Is it that my life is going so well at this moment that there is no reason to blog?

Well, St Patty's Day is tomorrow and in a town fulla white folks whose bodies are 75% beer on any given weekday, I'm sure there will be some blog worthy events that I can put my $0.35 in about....

Hey, do black folks have a ignant holiday like St Patty's Day and Mardi Gras where we can get drunk and act a fool and it's all g-double "o" - d good? I've heard of Juneteenth celebrations although I have no clue where they are held. Mardi Gras doesn't count....4th A July? Naww....not our holiday to begin with...Are they any?


Song of the moment - "Backstroke (Cautious)" - Teedra Moss


And yes, I realize that this does not qualify as an "update" per se...but hey, I told you, I've caught the FEVER...somebody gimme a remedy for this shit!

Turning Tricks...err..books

You may have noticed that in my profile/bio (---->) it says "Professional Shit Talker." While you may think that my rants on bad remakes, people who can't walk, and Biz Markie count as classic shit-talking, the situation in which I do the most talking is in competition, particularly during card games. Narrowing it down even more, I talk the MOST during Spades. When I was younger, I used to watch my parents, aunts and uncles play Spades with my eyes widened, just taking everything in. I laughed as my uncle stuck the card that would win the "set book" on his forehead, learned that the secret to making cards slap the table was all in the wrist, and that lying was a MUST.

When I came to my college, everyone's game of choice was bones or dominos. I quickly changed that shit. Don't get me wrong, I know the basics of dominos, but I'm not one of those people who counts all the bones and can tell you what someone is holding or what possibilities are left. Plus, math just ain't my thang, even if it is just counting below 30. So I quickly started the Spades Revolution on campus. Pretty soon after my arrival, the whole campus was playing spades. Cards were flying left and right and amateurs got sent home quick with long faces after 3 straight sets. But little did I know that the small amount trickery I learned from watching my family play would only take me so far. I quickly discovered that I wasn't just playing with liars, I wasn't just playing with cheaters, I was playing with some straight magicians! These Negros (ok, only really 2 of them, but that was enough) would pull some shit that would make Old Bootin' Billy from Boston (ok so that's not really anybody's real nickname....) look twice and say "huh?" So without further ado, here are some of the most scandalous Spades tricks (*clearing my throat**cheatmoves*ahem* excuse me...) I've seen in my almost two years up here.


Papparazzi Snap
Long live the camera phone! Ever seen someone take a picture of their whole hand and then send it to their partner? I have. Funny shit, especially when the opposing team just thinks that they are randomly checking their phones like everyone does every 15 minutes or so.

I'm Ready for Broadway!
There are some songs that are illegal during our Spades games now. Why? Read on...

One of the professional cheaters I mentioned in the prologue got a hand in which he had no diamonds. When his rookie partner started looking clueless as to what suit to play next, ol boy started straight humming the Purple One's classic tune "Diamonds and Pearls". Do-do-do-do-doom Do-do-do-do-doom do-do-do-do-doom-dum-dum... I mean, he had the opening beat down pat, the opposing team (buncha Nelly listeners, perhaps) were oblivious to the allusion. Obviously so was his partner. The freshman led with Hearts, allowing the other team to take control. All that vocal performance for nothin'.

During the Spades tournament last year (which me and my partner won *dustin off my lil imaginary trophy, poppin my collar twice and yes, Diggs, just for you, I will dust my shoulders off a few times too..), my partner was looking at me to see where he could go that would win us a book. So naturally I told him he could "find me in da club, bottle fulla bub..." After he lead with the 5 and I played the King and then the Ace next book, "In Da Club" was outlawed at the games. Sorry Fiddy.

Once again, during the tournament (2nd round, I think) diamonds were on the table. It was the first time they had been out, the first person led low and my partner, who didn't have any diamonds, looked at me quizzically, seeing if he should cut. Cue my music, DJ!!! "Choppa style, chop-chop choppa style!!! They want chop, chop! They want chop, chop!" Needless to say, he cut the book.


Liza Valentino
My Italiano gangster alias. This bitch is heartless. No, literally. This is who I turn into when I have no hearts in my hand. I adopt an accent, become inclined to call my partner "Toe-nee" or "Ma-ree-uh" and tell everybody who will listen that I am a "cold bitch." (This may or may not include shivering and hints to the temperature inside the playing area..depends on how deep in character I am that day...*big smile*)


The ole' switch-a-roo, eh?
The way we play up here, if someone wants to call a renig, they must "call" the proper book. Meaning, they have to properly identify the book on the table before it is flipped. These reggins (copyright Huny) up here have been know to switch the books faster than a professional three-card monty dealer. We especially - hell let me not absolve myself on any guilt - PEOPLE especially need to be on the lookout when WE, the CAWNS (Cheaters Association With No Shame) - start placing the books directly side-by-side.

Recycle, Man!
My school's heating and cooling systems run off of energy gained from recycled materials. We are firm believers that everything can be reused. Yes, even spades. So beware, newbies! If you see a member of CAWN rake in a book and take a little longer than usual, we are probably placing a card from our hand on top in trade for an "under the radar of amateur" spade (read:not a face card) that has an opportunity to win in the final couple of books.


There are many more tricks, but I must stop here. I'm crossing my fingers that I don't get my membership to cons...err...CAWNS revoked for revealing our classic tricks. Remember, I told you we are magicians and magicians NEVER tell the secret. However, it's too late, it's already out there. If you don't hear from me for a few weeks, contact the national headquarters of CAWNS and demand I be set free under the National Information Freedom Act (or some shit like that).

And remember....

This ain't yo grandmama's Spades! It's a new day!

Put Ya Spin On It (Got Love For My Shoes...KSWISS!!)

Breathe too heavily and you may miss the best part of the new Coke commercial. You know, the one where several young guys are hoopin' it up at the local playground when the ball rolls to the feet of an older man? While everybody is busy "ooohin and ahhin" at the fact that the older guy schooled the young shit talker, they usually miss the best part. What is it? At the very end when youngin is taking a swig from the cool, refreshing (somebody needs to pay me) Coke, his boy in the background says "Do you know who that is? That's Rooftop, son. He's a LEGEND." Then the Coke logo flashes across the screen with the word - "Respect." Point? You gotta know those who came before you if you want to be the best.

Scouring some American Idol message boards, trying to find some David Brown and Nikko Smith peformances, I stumbled upon some imbiciles who stated that Mikalah Gordon's rendition of "God Bless The Child" was *GASP* better than Billie Holiday's. What in the flying fuck they are smoking, I don't know. Brutha-free, if you ever get a hold of that Grade F mess, do not blog that day, apparently it makes you say stupid ass shit. How in the hell somebody can say a freakin 17 year old, whose hardest struggle was probably the American Idol audition process, can sing "Mama may have, papa may have...but God bless the child that's got his own.." betta than Ms. Holiday, I'll never know. Come on now, that's borderline blasphemous.

There are obviously some people who don't know that you need to know the past in order to make it through the future. Here is my list of:

Worst Remakes EVER.

"Someday We'll All Be Free" - Justin Guarini
I haven't even heard this. I just found out he had the audacity to cover this song by googling my favorite song to find out who had the balls to cover it. Come to find out it's this Sideshow Bob looking fool. He earns a spot on my list because he can't sing and no one slapped him and told him that Donny Hathaway is not to be fukked with.



"My Prerogative" - Britney Spears (Originally done by the Tyrone Biggums of R&B - Bobby Brown)
What is hell's name was she thinking when she remade this? Now she got folks talking about "she took a bad song and made it worse..." Naw pimpin, I remember. This usta be the jumpoff. Bobby Brown had grown ass married men whose young days of pimpin and spittin linen to the young women were LOOONG past talking bout "It's MYyYyy prerogative!!" So don't tell me that mess. She took what was a decent song and made it horrendous. And her cyber-space vocals certainly don't help.

"The Star-Spangled Banner" - Carl Lewis
Anytime you have to apologize midsong, you've done something extremely wrong. After fucking up royally, Carl took a break from singing and told the crowd "I'll make up for it, now..." He never did. He continued to slaughter the anthem, sounding like he had about 5 Freds from "Da Band" dying to get out. Cracked notes galore. Ya'll know that part at the end that says "O'er the land of the FrEeeeeEeEE..."? You know, the part where people usually choose to show off the upper end of their singing range? Yeah, well, not Carl. His ass got to that part, stopped mid performance, thought about it and took that note to lows (literally) never seen before. Don't believe me? Click Here to hear the atrocity.

"This Christmas" - Ashitty, oops, Ashanti
Death to ANYONE who attempts to sing this song and doesn't come remotely close to invoking the feelings of the original. So that means 95.9989% of muthafuckas who've attempted to sing this (publically) should be dropping quicker than plants in a crackhouse pretty soon.

Seriously, I cannot stand for people to try to sing this song on TV specials and shit and not even come close to the sincerity Donny poured into it. But of all the performances I've seen, Ms. Douglas' was BY FAR the worst. Barring the fact that she can't sing, nah wait, fuck that, that's the main reason for my anger towards her attempt at this song. So, not only does she sound worse than Ms. Piggy after sex (don't look at me crazy like ya'll never noticed how Ms Piggy sounded extra throaty after she and Kermit came from being alone someplace!), but the ho had the audacity to pass the mic to her even more talentless (if indeed this is possible) sister, who then proceeded to read the words off a SIDEKICK!! Don't tell me...no really, don't tell me that this lil ho didn't even have the decency to learn the words before she appeared on the blank channel (BET) to sing it? *cocking back my hand*

***SMACK!!*** BITCH....learn to respeck yo' elders fo' you come with that craziness!


"When Doves Cry" - Ginuwine (originally by *waving my finger in the air crazily the realizing "oh wait, that phase is over"*...Prince)

Do not touch Prince. Especially a classic Prince song. So what Prince songs does that leave to be tackled you ask? NONE DAMMIT, NONE!!! Until Sir Purpleness dies, no one shall touch any Prince songs. (Act 27849, hereby enacted on March 9, 2005 by the presiding Honorable Know-It-All, Ms. Liza Valentino herself, better known as Aries. )

"All I Do" - B5 (orginally by Troop)

What in the hell? That's all I gotta say. These little greasy-head boys look like they jumped straight outta Westside Story and started singing. Please ship them right on back with those Elvis hairdos. Just a mess...



Alright, I know there are TONS more that I have missed, but my mind caught a blank page and it is 2 in the morning, cut a sista a break. Tell me the ones that shoulda been on the list in the comments section.


**EDIT** BLOGGERS EVERYWHERE!! STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING!! Have you taken time out to hug your "r" key today? Please do...because you could look down one day and have an empty space underneath your "4" and "5" keys...*sniff sniff* That is all....

***EDIT #2*** (in explanation of the first edit) My "r" key/button popped off my laptop and I typed my entire entry (as well as both edits) using the little nub that is found under that actual key. It's not fun and I miss my R....That is all. Get it? Good...

Aries - Unplugged. Version 1.0

The new softer Brutha Code posted an entry a few days ago in which he transcribed the birth of his inner "playa." In my comment to his post, I said that I wish we as humans weren't so likely to take one hurt and allow it to forever lurk in our relationships from then on out. Then I stated that I am guilty of this.


________________________

A few days ago, Slim and I had a conversation which consisted of me pissing him off and him trying not to let it show. Eventually, he just stopped talking and I said "call me back" and abruptly hung up. About 5 minutes afterwards, I felt so bad that I sent him a text that said "don't be mad with me, I didn't mean to upset you." He shot me one back that said "i'm not. you just seem like you don't like me when i'm not with you." Damn. I sent him one more that said "i'm sorry, it's just really hard for me to let people in." He told me that I just should have told him that instead of pushing him away. I agreed and we were back to normal.


In an earlier post, I mentioned that I asked Slim what it was exactly that he was looking for. What I didn't say was what I told him. After staring at my blank phone, trying to figure out the perfect text message to send to convey what I am really looking for, I finally called him up. I told him that I'm not sure what I'm looking for but that it's not a sex buddy. It's not neccessarily a "boyfriend" either, although if it ends up that way, I won't have a problem with it. I'm not looking for another platonic friend, lawd knows I have enough of them. So he eventually came to the conclusion that I'm not looking for a real relationship. I let him think that because I'm not sure if I'm concrete enough in my desires to object to his assumption.

As Gian so delicately stated, Slim's been spending a lot of nights over here. Usually Thursdays, Saturdays and a Sunday here and there. Last night he tells me that he won't be coming up here this week. So I said (extremely sarcastically, mind you), "aWWww DAYUM!" He knew I was playing, but I think it kinda bothered him because he went into this whole tirade of "you act like I don't mean anything to you." After his tangent, we had this conversation:

Slim: "I'm kinda glad that I'm not coming up there this week."
Aries: "Damn, for real?"
Slim: "Naw, not like that. Because you said you don't like guys getting too attached to you."
Aries: "And?"
Slim: "Every time I see you, I find myself getting more and more attached to you..."
Aries: "Oh.."
Slim: "Yeah, and I don't want that to happen if it's something you don't like."
Aries: *with ALL the hesitation in the world* "Oh...Ok..."
Slim: "You did say that, didn't you?"
Aries: "Uhhh..........yeah...."

Classic example of words coming back to bite you in the ass. When I said that I was referring to guys that I don't find myself feeling the same way about. I could easily tell him that, but then at the same time he might assume it's ok to get all attached and I'm not sure I want that either.

Am I afraid of committment?

Slim thinks so.

I don't.

I think I'm afraid of getting hurt again. I'm afraid of getting into another unhealthy relationship.

But I don't want to be that girl that guys are afraid to get close to.

I want Slim to be close. To get close. Slowly.

I want to have him here. I want him to sit in a chair while I straddle him and look deep in his eyes. I want to tell him that it's ok to get close to me because I'm not going to do anything to hurt him. I want to wrap my arms around his neck and have him tell me that he doesn't fear me. I want to tell him that I won't lie to him and I expect the same from him. I want him to know I have no reason to lie. I want to kiss him and for him to know that as of right now, nobody kisses me better than him. I want him to know that he's been the only guy to sleep in my bed for almost a month. I want him to know that now I sleep on the right side of the bed because it reminds me of him. I want him to get close and not be fearful that I may push him away.

But he is. He told me so.

It's a fear that I can't say is completely unwarrented. I do play him to the left. Sometimes I don't answer the phone when he calls. If my call-waiting beeps, he's usually the one to get the "lemme call you back." He'll send me a text message and I purposely won't reply until an hour and a half later. I don't know why I do it. Actually, I do. I like him. And he likes me back. And at this point there's a blinking neon sign activated in my grey matter that says "DANGER. YOU'VE BEEN DOWN THIS ROAD BEFORE. TURN AROUND." And although I know he is an entirely different person (from the one I last ventured down that pathway with) until I can find the source of power to unplug that damn sign, I keep pulling myself away.

My Promise

You may have noticed that my page was blacked out for the majority of March 8th with a promise to Rashawn Brazell. My promise is that I will not let him be forgotten. It's a promise that shouldn't have to be made. His name should be as widely printed as that of Jon Benet Ramsey. His face as familiar as Laci Peterson's. Humans, young and old, Black and white, gay and straight should loudly protest the brutal way in which he was snatched from this earth. However,

It is obvious that the mainstream media is sending us a message. A message that says our young Black lives don't mean a thing to them. Rashawn is hardly mentioned. They refer to him in ways PETA would deem inhumane for animals. They are trying to sweep him under the rug.

It's a message they've been sending us for decades.

They refuse to use their ink to report and respectfully commemorate our lives.

I won't let them. I've seen this too many times in my short life. I've watched as men who looked like my father, my uncle, my best friend and my boyfriends were dusted away. Blown into the wind with little more than a second thought. I won't let it happen this time. I've read, I'm stronger now, I'm wiser now. I realize that while it will take more than me, it has to start somewhere. I'm willing to plant the seed of memory in people's minds so that they know Rashawn Brazell was here.

Rashawn,

I won't let them forget you.

You're too much a part of me.

You remind me so much of my boy Rock. Young, full of promise, and gay. I told Rock about you the other day and I listened as his voice filled with outrage. I shake when I think that the name hidden deep beneath the tactless headlines could have easily been his.

If I allow them to forget you, I'm sending them a message that it is ok to forget me. To forget all young, promising Black youth after a few blurbs hidden behind the lastest news of war. I won't let it happen. I can't let it happen.

You're too much a part of me.





Check The Blog Movement for other bloggers who've agreed not to let Rashawn's name be forgotten.

Hot List (#2)

112 - "You Already Know"
I first heard this on the radio in St Louis during the Winter Break. Throughout the first verse I thought it was Michael Jackson singing, halfway through the first verse, I realized that it was Slim from 112. Then the chorus came on and it was some freaky shit about her favorite position being "from the back door." This song is smooth as hell. I've never been a 112 fan, but I always listened to them with a "eh, so what" attitude. This song may give them a little spot in my heart. *EDIT* - Click Here and scroll down until you see the link to hear the song.




Marques Houston - "Because of You"
I used to be the biggest Immature fan. When I was younger, I had an entire border around my room made up of those one page posters from Word Up!, BlackBeat and Right On! of nothing but Immature. I even had pictures that included the little Chinese boy nobody remembers. After all that, there is no soft spot in my heart for any of the Immature members. I still listen to their old albums and jam, but the new IMX doesn't do it for me. Then came this song. Save for Youmg Rome's (WTF kinda name is that?) rap, this song is really decent. Production by new duo Corna Boyz.


Mariah Carey - "It's Like That" and "We Belong Together"
I'm an undercover Mariah fan. Hell, I didn't even realize until about three years ago when I was going through my CDs and I realized I have four of her LPs and various singles. Then I started paying attention. I like Mariah. She uses phrasing in her songs that you would never expect to hear in pop music. Below I've put some of her lyrics followed by what today's dummies would say:

I can see you clearly
Vividly emblazoned in my mind.
I still think about you.

I am thinking of you
In my sleepless solitude tonight.
Alone in my room, I think of you.

To relive the splendour of you and I.
I wanna go back to how things used to be.

That's unyielding and sacred to me.
It's serious to me.

Underneath the guise of a smile
Gradually, I'm dying inside.
I'm smiling but this shit is tearing me up.

I was a wayward child.
I was a bad ass kid.


I left the worst unsaid
Let it all dissipate.
I let all that bad shit fade away.

It's a shame to be
so euphoric and weak.
Damn you got me open!

I think of our untimely end
Why we break up?

Anyways, back to the matter at hand, both of these songs are hot as hell but "We Belong Together" has been on repeat for three days on my laptop. No lie. This song just hits me. I'm glad Mariah is back...I just hope this time she's not invisible.

Brooke Valentine - "Girlfight"
This song makes me wanna fight some broads. You had betta believe the minute I find out what dumb hoes sent that email, they betta hope this song is not anywhere within my hearing range. Because I will throw this shit on, commence to warming up and then proceed to kick ass. Beligerent behavior aside, this is a good ass song. Lil Jon produced.




Tropical Twist Trident
My new favorite gum. It tastes good, the flavor lasts a long time and you can pop bubbles if you chew two pieces. Plus, it's 84 cents at Walmart.





Nature Valley Oats 'N Honey Granola Bars.
I rarely ever eat breakfast unless I'm at home (St. Louis) and it's Saturday. So here at school if I ever eat breakfast, this is it.





Palmer's Cocoa Butter.
I've been using this religiously for about a month and a half now. It's much more fun than liquid lotion to put on and plus after I hop out the shower I smell extra good with this shit on. Especially at night. Oh yeah, and it makes your skin soft too.

God's Work

I just finished watching my auntie's production of Their Eyes Were Watching God. The storm scene in there hit me particularly hard. Since I was a little lady I've been obsessed with abnormal weather. And today was one of those days. It's one of those porch sitting nights. Warm, extra windy. Just gorgeous.


Ever since I can remember the weather has played a big part on my emotions. Today triggered some memories of my childhood that I haven't thought about in a long time. So I decided to blog about some various weather conditions and the memories they triggered for me.

Rain
One of my aunties and one of my uncles passed within a year of each other. Both were my mother's siblings. I think they both passed before I hit the age of 10. Both died on rainy days. Every time it would rain hard my mother would put on Sam Cooke. Sam was her brother's (my uncle) favorite artist. On days when she really missed him (sad days) the song was "A Change is Gonna Come". On days where she would remember his silliness and smile, she played "We're Having a Party" and "Twisting the Night Away." To this day, I think about "A Change is Gonna Come" when I see rain. I can see my mother putting on the record and sitting on the couch looking through pictures or cooking something in the kitchen.

Rain always reminds me of reflection. A time to think, a time to evaluate.

Rain also reminds me of the flood of '93. For some reason, my immediate family was in St Louis visiting my extended family. I was either 7 or 8 (depending on what time of year it happened, I can't remember and don't feel like looking it up). Me, my grandmother and two of my cousins had gotten caught in the flood. I don't remember where we were coming from, but I do remember having on a big white dress. My grandmother, who was driving, was trying to concentrate on driving safely, while me and my cousin (who was the same age as me) were asking questions galore. Finally my older cousin, who would have been 12 or 13, got me and my cousin to stop asking questions and start "chasing raindrops" down the windows with our fingers. Funny the things your mind recalls. I know my grandmother was probably scared to death, but we made it out safely and that game kept us occupied for a while.

Wind
Like I said, today is an extremely windy day. Earlier I was walking home from working out and watched as the leaves swirled around in the air about 5 inches off the ground. I took time to appreciate how the tree limbs swayed and the branches buoyed up and down. Then, almost immediately after, I started to think about how my dad taught me to fly kites and how his love for it made me appreciate it. When he would take me out there and try to teach me how to get the kite off the ground and to stay in the air, I would look up at him and see how much care he put into making sure it stayed in the air once it got up. I called him up and we reminisced on it for a second. In the condo complex we lived in for 10 years there was a soccer field. He used to take me down to this soccer field and we would fly kites for hours. I had seriously forgotten about it until today.

Snow
Man, growing up in Cleveland, snow brings back HELLA memories. The snow forts, the stash of snowballs, the snow angels, the slips and falls, the hot cocoa and those ugly ass snowsuits. Man...too many memories and almost all of them good. It's probably why there are few sights more beautiful to me today than a fresh blanket of snow.

Ice
A few years back, there was a terrible ice storm in St Louis. My house sits on a hill and in order to get to the front door you have to walk on an incline. Somehow, St Louis County Schools were not convinced that the ice storm was a worthy reason to cancel school (or it happened during the school day, but I really think I was right the first time) and I ended up going to school. After the bus dropped me off, I started to walk up my driveway like normal to get to my front door. No such luck. It was covered with ice probably an inch to an inch and a half thick. Not even my Timbs would catch onto that stuff. So I try to walk in the grass, up my front lawn and to the door. Uh uh. That too was iced over. So how did I end up getting into my house? I had to crawl up my front lawn, using my keys as ice picks. Not fun, not fun at all.


Damn, this honest blogging can rub off on a person, huh? Ehh, that's enough of that sappiness, memories and whatnot.

Closed. Will Reopen Once Healed.

This will be my last post about Slim for a while. That Negro has been takin up too much of my blog space and he aint payin' rent. (Wait, neither am I, but still, this is MY spot!) But I figured I better post about Slim before you all tar and feather me! So, for those of you inquiring about sleepovers and abstinence mixing, here goes:

I made sure Slim knew the first time he spent the night over here that there would be nothing going on but sleeping. While he was here, we talked and I let him know that there will be nothing going on in the sexual realm until we got to know each other. (Logical, huh?) So anyways...Hol' up, hol' up!! My fault...I guess I should start out with my reasoning for abstaining, huh?

Alright, here goes. Before we get started, lemme warn you that this is shaping up to be one of those long ass, Gian-type posts, so you might wanna go grab yourself a glass of water and a cookie or two. I'll wait...

*tapping my foot while singing Michael Jackson's "The Way You Make Me Feel"...*

Back? Good, let's get going...

*deep breath* I'm going to attempt to be as honest as some of you other bloggers out there. So here goes....wait, hold on a minute... *emptying my pockets of sarcasm, smart ass comments and ambiguous phrasing* Alright, let's roll.


So far, in my short lil life, I can count on one hand the number of guys I've been with intimately. Then I can put down my thumb, middle, ring and pinkie fingers. Yeah, you followed that right. I've only been intimate sexually with one man in my lifetime. We dated for two and a half years. When we started dating I was 16 and he was 22. I'm sure there are some back entries about him. Not nearly as many as there are on my old blog, but I'm sure he lurks somewhere in here.

Anyways, we had this really serious relationship, entirely too serious for someone my age but probably perfect for him since he was 6 years older than me and ready for a lot of stuff that I wasn't.

When we first started dating, he was the perfect gentleman. Sweet, honest, caring...yadda yadda blase skip...(don't they all start out that way?) As time went on, he stayed that way but I noticed that he always wanted to be FIRST. He always wanted to have me to himself and if I would go out he would call me at LEAST 10 times while I was out. Usually more. It got the point where my friends had to grab my phone from me and turn it off in order for me to have a halfway decent time. He kept up this behavior until I left for college. Right before I left, we got into a really big argument and I laid everything out on the table. I told him I thought he was controlling and too demanding and I was really getting sick of it. He apologized and we went back to normal for a while. A couple weeks later, I packed my stuff and was off to college. Then he really started to act up. He started being extremely verbally abusive to me and calling me every name in the book anytime he felt like it. I would get home from a football game (where I couldn't hear my phone ring) and have 5 voicemails from him calling me all types of hoes, bitches and sluts. At first I was too shocked to even be hurt by it, I mean shit, I was still a virgin. It's like having someone call you a honkie and you are black as night. You just sit there, like "WTF? Are they for real?.." But after a while it did a number on me. Eventually, it got to the point where I felt I needed to talk to him face to face and I went home. We ended up getting in another big ass argument and that was the first time he ever laid his hands on me. I was so extremely hurt that I went straight back to school and wouldn't talk to him for 2 weeks. Eventually we smoothed things over and somehow wound up still together. We carried on with this bullshit for several more months. Then October (03) of my freshman year, he came up to my school and proposed to me. That was the night I lost my virginity. (Gawd, that is the worst saying in the language....I really didn't lose it, I know exactly where it went. But I digress...)I was convinced that it was right and everything between us would only get better from then on.

Shit only got worse. He became even more controlling, demanding crazy shit. Giving me certain times to call him, going online to check my cell phone records and calling my room phone at all times of the night just to make sure I was there. Almost every time I would go home, we would end up in a physical fight. On one trip, we had an especially bad fight and he ended up trying to choke me with his belt. I was hurt, confused, caught up and couldn't find a way to let go of this man whom I'd put so much loving into. Putting up with his ass kept me in a deep ass depression. For two weeks of the spring semester freshman year, I was seriously deeply depressed. I didn't go to class, I wouldn't speak to anyone, I barely ate. I slept the whole day and would be up all night talking to him, trying to make "us" work. My grades slipped. My straight A's and 2 B's ended up being 2 B's and and 4 C's. (Yeah you read that right, that is 6 classes, 18 credit hours and an honor course on top of that. So ya'll know a girl was already stressed without that bullshit.) Anyways, after all those weeks of being nocturnal and depressed and shit I emerged knowing that I couldn't deal with that shit a minute longer. I broke it off for "good"...It was quite sad really. He begged, pleaded and bawled his sorry ass eyes out, but I was unaffected. All I had to do was think of all the shit he put me through and that turned any glimmer of sympathy I may have had into straight stone. We must have talked from 1am to about 9am. He tried every trick in the book to get me to stay with him. Finally, I just told him flat out that he didn't respect me. He denied it up and down, swore I was his Queen and that he always cherished me. I blew a fuckin' lid. I went off, replaying all the shit he'd put me through, all the times he'd hurt me, physically and mentally, and basically just put all his shit out there. He wouldn't say anything about hitting me, but he kept insisting that the only reason he'd repeatedly said those things to me was because he was angry. So I asked his punk ass if he respected his mother. Of course he replied "yes." I asked if he'd ever been angry with her. Again, "yes." Had he ever called his mother a bitch to her face? He hung his head. When he looked up, his eyes were wet and he slowly said "no." I told him that because he respected her and it was ENTIRELY too obvious by the way he treated me that in his mind, I didn't deserve respect. That ended the conversation.

Since then, I've ended up running back to him several times, most recently last October. It was mainly a physical thing, but there was also this deeply mental hold, him being my first and only and all that shit. It got to the point where I would go to his house, we would sit there and he would hold me. We wouldn't speak and then one of us would end up crying because of how shit turned out. We would have sex and then I would end up hating myself because I couldn't release myself from him. And it wasn't that the sex was that good. He was excellent at oral sex, but when it came time for intercourse, things always took a turn for the worst. It wasn't that the sex was bad, let me explain: I like to make love. With me being so fuckin enamored with him and our relationship being turbulent as hell in every other aspect, the one place I thought I could find some tenderness was in the bedroom. Not so...in all the times that we've done it, I can only recall 3 times which would qualify as not ending up with us fucking. And one of those times was after we broke up. I don't know if it was something to do with him physically, but dude would always end up fucking me. And don't get me wrong, that shit is cool sometimes, hell GREAT at the right time, but like I said, I was seeking softness since I couldn't get it anywhere else. Here's a poem about it called "Tough Love". (This brotha wrote an EXCELLENT reply to it, let me know if you want to see it and I will give you all the link in my next post.) Ehh...fukk it...I'll post it later.


Being that he's been my only sexual partner, I decided to abstain from sex. The thought of it just came with too much emotional baggage and every time I would find myself feenin', there was only one place for me to get my fix and I already knew how bad that was for me. I'm not the one for "casual sex" so I always wound up going back to the one person I had real feelings for. So I swore off sex altogether. It was the only way for me to get my mind right and not fall victim to my carnal desires. Plus, I had a feeling that the next guy that I had sex with would find me relaying all my wasted feelings for my ex onto him. And I was way too fragile to have myself get hurt again so soon.

There have been good guys in between but I always felt I wasn't ready. (Not just for sex, for a relationship.) So they got put to the side. I didn't want to hurt them by being too distant and I was also afraid of getting hurt because my spirit was still healing.

I guess Slim just came at the right time. We had a conversation and we decided to just keep things as they are for while and see where things go. And for right now, that's exactly what I want. It would be nice to have a boyfriend, but I know there is still a part of me that fears that the moment we label something, the bullshit will begin. So until I can let go of that, we'll remain where we are.

And where in the hell is that exactly? Shit, I don't know. Slim's been spending a lot of time over here. In fact, he stayed over here last night. We're doing a lot more talking now. At first, it was a lot of playful talk in between deep kisses. I guess we explored our physical attraction to each other first and now that we know that's not going anywhere, we are taking the time to really get to know each other. I was extremely honest with him yesterday and let him know that he's not the only one I'm "talking" (do only Midwest people say that?) to, but that I am really feeling him. He let me know that he's starting to gain some feelings for me. I told him that was nice. I just couldn't find it in myself to lie to him and tell him the same. And I didn't want to. He's great to be around and have around, but I'm the type of person that it takes a while to get to care about someone, but once I do, I REALLY care about you. So for right now, me and Slim will continue to sleep in my SUPER DELUXE bed, have those fun "getting to know you better conversations" and enjoy each other's company while we're out (all between some great kisses, because that boy has some SUPERB lips!). I'll keep you updated...

_______________________


Here's a freewrite I wrote about the whole sex situation and the way I kept going back.

I don't mean to keep letting him slide
in
me
between my legs
feasting on me
saying into me
all that he refused to say
to me
numerous apologies
and sincere feelings
singing "Adore"
into my core
"Love is 2 weak 2 define just what you mean to me"
This language we speak is
so different from the one we first
learned to communicate with
Tongues greet with the passion
of the reunited
fingertips blaze new trails of discovery
to a place
where only one flag has been planted







Dammit, I'm not updating for 3 weeks after this! I don't see how you long posters do it! But there you have it, the Slim update as well as a whole hell of a lot more.

Same Shit, Different Road....

Here is an old ass observation of mine with a bit of explanation:

The muthafuckas who can't walk straight are the same ones who can't drive worth shit.

Proof? See Aries' Walking Manual (located directly below).

1. Stay on yo damn side!
Here in Ammurika (say it like you are from da LOU . "Nelly-style" for those who still can't place it) we drive on the right side of the road. Apply the same damn rule to walking. It's natural since that is the way we drive. If it's a two-lane sidewalk, walk towards your destination on the right side. Walking on the left side will result in confusion, purposeful tripping by mean ass folk like me and/or the old-fashioned "bump and glare*."

Driving Parallel - Offenders of the worst kind. People who don't understand the concepts of two lane roads and drive in both lanes until an oncoming vehicle comes. People who do not understand the concept of left turns.

*Bump and glare - a move in which the offender is purposely bumped, usually in the shoulder, by a mean ass mofo who purposely lowered their shoulder so as to make direct contact. After the bump, a mean ass stare is directed in the direction of the offender, this completes the bump and glare. It is usually followed by a diverted gaze by the offender or an act of aggression by the executer.

2. Merging.
We've established that you should walk in the same direction that you drive. So, if you see that your "stop" is on the left side, you need to merge into the next lane in order to cause the least amount of disruption possible to the flow of traffic. DO NOT wait until you get directly parallel to the building and then try to abruptly cross 3 lines of walking people just because you fucked up.


Driving Parallel - The people who do this are the same mofos who see their exit sign coming up for 5 miles but wait until the last fuckin minute to dart across 4 lanes of traffic to make it there. Also, people who stop in the lane until somebody lets them over so that they can exit.

3. Use the shoulder.
(Before I proceed, I must admit I'm guilty of this, but I'm a cool ass mutha so I can do dat. Plus I DARE somebody to say sumthin to me!) If you need to have a conversation that simply cannot happen simultaneously with the movement of your feet, DO NOT stop in the middle of the walkway and conduct your conversation. Pull yo ass over to the side until that shit concludes.

Driving Parallel - People who stop in the middle of the road and hold conversations with a car next to them, blocking all traffic. People who hold conversations with folks from the hood who run up to their car and hang in the window.

4. Preparation for traffic.
If you need to retrieve something, do it before you come into the flow of walking traffic. DO NOT disrupt traffic by slowing down find your iPod, cigarettes or ringing cellphone in your bag. Have that shit handy.

Driving Parallel - Folks who get out at red lights to get something from their trunk and don't make it back in time for the light to turn green. Folks who put on makeup, eat REAL ass meals, change clothes and/or shoes, and do their hair while driving. Take care of that shit before you get on the road!